Commanding Wind and Cloud - Chapter 281: Training of Death beyond the Limits！

The Halfling says: curiosity is power.The Dwarf says: unity is power.The Elf says: Magic is power.The Gnome says: creation is power.The Beastman says: slaughter is power.Humans say: authority is power.The Dragon always says: knowledge is power.The Gods once said: faith is power.Lynch stands on the terrace of the All-Knowing Tower, overlooking the Anriel Continent, and gently says:“I”, am power.

Lady Dawn expected to die.After casting her soul to the wind, taking a one-in-a-million chance to escape the wretched dungeons of Taegrin Caelum, the once-caged songbird of the Asclepius wishes nothing more than to find her Hearth and warn them of the coming danger. Instead, she’s found herself a shade, anchored to a young man who knows far too much—and with far less hope than she’d started with.Toren Daen, for his part, only wanted to make it home safely. Now he’s in a world taken straight from the page, questioning what is real and what is fiction, and scrambling to make something worthwhile. And with his foresight, there’s only one way that Toren can see to keep this new world safe: prevent the descent of the Legacy. But those in power will not make it easy: Nico Sever is in a league of power all on his own, and Arthur Leywin bears the burden of Fate a continent away. In this familiar-yet-not world of mana, monsters, and looming deities, any misstep along the roads of Alacrya and the High Sovereign’s Dominion could lead to a Fate worse than death.But what is death to a phoenix? With a burning secret in his mana core, knowledge of the future, and a maelstrom of fears and questions, Toren might just survive to be more than what Lady Dawn expected him to be. He might just survive to waylay the encroaching tide of death in the proxy war between raging asura clans.More than all of that, he might just live.

Born naturally defective but possessed by the spirit of a divine dragon. Inheriting the divine dragon’s will and power, growing scales and magical claws, imperial waters containing the breath of the dragon, travelling through clouds and summoning rain, an invincible physical body. In this world and era, countless men dream of slaying dragons. Li Mu Yang has always lived a hard life.

I’m an imperial uncle; his imperial majesty’s uncle.

Once, someone with nothing better to do took a comprehensive survey of the current dynasty, and summed up the imperial court’s three great cancers.

Wang Qin leads in corruption; the treasury is never full.

Yun Tang favours a few, forming cabals; leading to corruption in our politics.

Prince Huai plays with power, and serves as the head of a hundred poisons — thus causing instability to the throne.

When they talk about the most venomous of vipers, the wicked one who plays with power, the biggest cancer of them all, they’re talking about me: this insignificant prince, Prince Huai, Chengjun.

I can only say that I feel rather hapless in the face of these theories.

In truth, I have been ever dutiful, ever devoted, devoid of intention to monopolise power, and possess even less of a heart to covet the throne. In the entire imperial court, I dare say there is no loyal subject more loyal than I.

But, most tragically, in all the realm, the matter of my being a loyal subject is something that not many would believe.

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